


Res Nullius

by xSpookyScarySkeletonsx



Series: Compos Mentis [3]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: and yet..., don’t let the somewhat happy start trick you, this boy deserved so much better
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-29 15:47:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17206247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xSpookyScarySkeletonsx/pseuds/xSpookyScarySkeletonsx
Summary: Ralph has finally gone completely mad. But is that a bad thing?





	Res Nullius

**Author's Note:**

> people keep changing plans on me so at least there’s plenty of time to write

There was a house on the sand, built into the dunes like a lonely fortress, the ever-changing tide its only companion. It was small and simple, timber worn down by time and the salty breeze of the ocean making up its creaking frame. Only the palm trees provided it with some protection, their  swaying casting shapes onto the sun-bleached roof. 

Ralph thought the world had never seen a more perfect home.

The sea had become his constant companion, providing not only artwork mounted to the walls by the frames of the windows but also a continuous song, its melody weaving into every part of the day.

It was so beautiful, so blue, that sometimes Ralph forgot there were other colours. With the sky melting into the ocean far, far away and the hot white light of the sun washing everything else out, it was easy to forget that the world had other shades to offer.

The memory of the city was slowly fading, as if it had never existed at all. Neon billboards were hard to remember when Ralph had the stars to admire. Sludgy greys of tired old buildings were nothing compared to the seemingly never-ending stretch of sand running underneath his feet.

Ralph had been feeling so calm for so long, his anger gone as if the salty tide had carried it away.Or maybe it had disappeared with the feeling of loneliness, chased away by his company.

The girl was little, maybe two years old, not capable of doing anything by herself. There was always work to be done but Ralph didn’t mind. They spent hours building castles in the sand, elaborate structures that almost seemed to come to life.

Well, Ralph did the building and the little girl crushed what she didn’t like, sometimes adding shells and small pieces of driftwood.

Later in the day they would sit and watch the rolling tide wash away their work, as if cleaning the slate for a new beginning.

There was a woman, too, gentle and careful. She didn’t speak much, hiding in the shadows of the house, never coming outside. A quiet spectator, only ever watching them from the windows. Ralph knew she was afraid, the fear so evident in her every move it was almost palpable, reminding him of a former version of himself.

But there was nothing to be afraid of out here, where it was only the three of them. Nothing but one’s own thoughts. Yet to the woman that seemed to be enough. Ralph never questioned it. With time, the fear would fade. Just like his own had.

With time, they would be able to be a happy family.

 

But sometimes things weren’t what they seemed.

An outsider would have only seen an android cradling an old pillow, the case stained and frayed at the edges, muttering to himself. An old house, abandoned by humans long ago, slowly falling apart in the unstoppable passage of time and decay.

There were strange little arrangements of items everywhere, like misunderstood artworks waiting to be discovered. A small pile of sticks on the dusty kitchen table, looking almost as if someone had tried to build a fire and then abandoned the attempt halfway through. A collection of small rocks on a plate near the kitchen sink, some of them still encrusted by mud. Perhaps the same mud that was tracked all through the house in a bizarre network of footprints, some tracing one another while others ran in circles through the living area.

It was a strange scene, almost sad in its absurdity, a reminder that progress and change had not reached some corners of the city, a reminder that some people had simply been forgotten, left behind like unwanted weights that would only slow down the system.

 

But even if someone had told Ralph himself that what he was seeing wasn’t real, that his experiences were only the results of his damaged components and his haunted mind... It wouldn’t have made a difference. If he experienced it in his mind, if it seemed so real on the inside, did it matter that it wasn’t really happening?

And would it really be better to suffer in reality than to be happy in a dream?


End file.
